


Ménage à Mort

by futuresoon



Category: Tiger & Bunny
Genre: Afterlife, Awkward, Happy Ending, Love Triangle, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-10
Updated: 2011-10-10
Packaged: 2017-10-24 11:44:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/263115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/futuresoon/pseuds/futuresoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time passes quicker than either of them thought it would.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ménage à Mort

Time passes quicker than either of them thought it would.

Years become decades, and some things change, and some things don't. At some point, they're living together, and Kotetsu's apartment is warmer than it's been in years, and Barnaby admits that having more than one piece of furniture can be useful. At some point, a real retirement happens, not because of declining powers but because even if Kotetsu can still judo-flip any of the younger heroes in an instant he gets tired, sometimes, he can't keep up the way he used to, and he can't trust himself to not be a hindrance. Once more, Barnaby retires with him, and it's obvious neither of them will come back. At some point, Kaede has kids of her own, and Barnaby tries to be a cool granddad but doesn't entirely succeed, not least because Kotetsu is as dorky around his grandkids as he was in front of his child and it's hard to maintain your composure around that. At some point, Barnaby realizes he can't keep up the way he used to, either. It doesn't matter. He doesn't have to.

Growing old isn't so bad. It lets Barnaby have things he never had when he was young, love and family and so much happiness he can barely hold it in. It lets him appreciate little things, the way Kotetsu looks with gray in his hair, making breakfast for more than one person, not having to go anywhere or do anything besides stay in bed and wrap himself around the strongest source of warmth he's ever had. Not needing to be anything besides himself. He doesn't need to be a public figure and he doesn't need anything besides what he already has and he's _happy,_ so blissfully happy, he doesn't care about the little things creeping up on his body. On Kotetsu's.

There's a night when he and Kotetsu stay up late in bed, just talking about something, their grandkids or the latest crop of heroes or how their friends are doing. Kotetsu's fingers are running through Barnaby's hair, and they're pressed up against each other, solid and comforting and peaceful. Barnaby falls asleep on the shoulder of the man he loves. He dreams about being younger, but it's not a sad dream. It is what it is.

Barnaby wakes up the next morning still wrapped around Kotetsu. His arms are stiff; he extricates himself and stretches, looks at the clock on the nightstand. They've slept in. Well, no matter. He moves to shake Kotetsu awake.

Kotetsu doesn't respond.

Oh.

It takes a long, silent moment for Barnaby to do anything besides stay very still.

He doesn't get out of bed for quite a while. Standing up makes it too real, too much of a confirmation that this has happened. He knows, on some distant level, that there are things he needs to do, that time is still passing and this moment won't last forever. But he can't. After some interminable time, he calls Kaede, asks her to come over. He can't bring himself to say why. He thinks, though, that she might have guessed. When she gets there, and he shows her, it looks as if she had, but that she didn't want to make it real either, didn't want to know for sure. She's crying, quiet tears that turn to wracking sobs and even after decades of learning emotions he can only try to comfort her. Somewhere along the line, he realizes that she's comforting him. Neither of them can say anything, but there they are, the two living people who knew and loved Kotetsu best. And he holds onto her like a lifeline.

Eventually, Kaede dries her face as best she can and controls her voice enough to say that she'll make the phone calls. Services to hire. Things that need to be done. She promises to stay with him. Them. Him.

Calls are made, and after a while people come to take it away. Barnaby tries to think of it as an it, because if he doesn't then he knows he won't be able to let them. And then it's just him and Kaede.

When Kaede has to leave, someone else subs in for her. Nathan's not much younger than Kotetsu, but that doesn't seem to stop him, and somehow he's exactly what Barnaby needs, not too loud and not too demanding but not cold, either, not unaffected. It's a reminder that there are still other people who will mourn, many other people, even if in some selfish part of him Barnaby wants to think that none of them will feel the way he does. Kotetsu gave him so much, and the prospect of living without him is almost incomprehensible. How can anyone else know that?

Days pass and he's never alone, always there's someone who comes by to make sure he's still functioning. Keith, uncharacteristically quiet. Antonio, clearly struggling not to break down. Karina, who fails, and has to leave after an hour, apologizing through her tears. Kaede, again, having to be the strong one.

Everything is just going through the motions. Barnaby wonders what they think will happen if he's left by himself. Barnaby wonders what _would_ happen if he was left by himself.

The funeral, when it comes, is attended by so many people that Barnaby has to admit to himself he's not the only one affected. Kotetsu's identity hasn't been private for some time now, and everyone changed by him can come to pay their respects. Heroes from multiple generations. People he saved. Grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Barnaby doesn't even recognize all of the faces. There are so many who need to say goodbye. It's all a blur, anyway, faces that look like Ben Jackson and Saito and even Agnes and, weirdly, Judge Petrov. None of them seem to ask much of Barnaby. He wonders if Kaede told them not to.

When it's over, and everyone has drifted away but for Kaede waiting by the car, Barnaby kneels down in front of the grave and runs his hand over the stone. It's too cold, too quiet. Kotetsu was never either of those things. But Kotetsu isn't anything, now.

"See you soon," Barnaby whispers. He doesn't have high expectations. Then he gets up and walks back to Kaede, back to whatever there is left.

Then he wonders, briefly, if there wasn't somebody already waiting for Kotetsu. Waiting for so many years.

But he's too tired and hollow to think, and he doesn't dwell on it.

 

He was right.

It doesn't take long.

One night he's staring at the ceiling, knowing there will be nothing to do tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that, and he closes his eyes and everything slides into darkness. It's soft and calm and it feels like sleep, but just barely on the edge of consciousness. He drifts through it for some time, in a sea of barely-knowing. Then his eyes open, and he's not where he was when he fell asleep. He rubs his eyes as he sits up, unaccustomed to the sudden light.

First he realizes that his hand is smoother, and then he realizes that his movements aren't slow any more, and only then, perhaps because he was still processing, he realizes that there's someone sitting next to him.

A hand ruffles his hair, and perhaps it's a good thing he already doesn't seem to be breathing, because if it was up to him he wouldn't be.

"Hey, Bunny," Kotetsu says.

It's only now, after all of it is over, that Barnaby finally bursts into tears.

"Crap, crap, I didn't mean--hey, it's okay, it's me, everything's okay," Kotetsu says, grabbing onto Barnaby's shoulders. Barnaby grabs hold of him entirely, pulls him in and buries his face into Kotetsu's shoulder, sobs and sobs and then starts laughing, all of a sudden, ridiculous and undignified and full of more raw joy than he can remember ever feeling. He doesn't even think of why this is happening. All of existence is him in Kotetsu's arms. Nothing else matters.

Kotetsu starts to laugh too, reverberating throughout Barnaby's body. Barnaby manages to look up and there are tears on Kotetsu's face, too, a ridiculous wobbly grin he'd thought he would never see again. It's almost too much to handle. It _is_ too much to handle. But somehow, the emotion isn't so heartwrenching, here. And then, _then_ Barnaby realizes where he is, and what's happened, and oh. Right.

"I'm dead, aren't I," Barnaby says.

"Welcome to the club," Kotetsu says.

"You _fucking bastard,_ " Barnaby says.

"That wasn't really the reaction I was expecting," Kotetsu says.

"You _died,_ " Barnaby says. "You died and you _left me_ and you must have known how much I needed you, you must have known how miserable I'd be without you!"

"It's not like I did it _on purpose_ ," Kotetsu protests. "You don't really get a choice in these things!"

"Well, excuse me for still being a little bit upset about it," Barnaby says, pulling back and wiping his eyes. He notices that he's wearing the same red jacket he wore all the time when he was younger, back before restrictive leather clothing started to be an issue. And the same shirt, the same pants, the same belt. He reaches up to his hair, and it's the same length and style as it was back then.

"Why do I look like I'm 25?" Barnaby asks. "And you, you look--well, a little younger than when we met, actually..." There are fewer lines on Kotetsu's face, a more generally youthful aura. Barnaby isn't sure he likes it.

"Ah, you pretty much get to choose what you look like, here," Kotetsu says. "Mostly people go with the age they liked best. It's a subconscious thing. You can't always control it." He looks a little nervous, now, which is...odd. Why would he be worried?

"So I'm the age I was when I met you," Barnaby says softly, warmth uncurling in his chest. Then he frowns. "And you're..."

"Look, I'm pretty sure it's just a tie kind of thing, I _said_ you don't always get to control it," Kotetsu says, almost tripping over his words. "So--I'm--"

"The age he was when he became a hero," says a new voice, somewhere behind them. Barnaby twists his head around to get a look. It's a woman, with long, brown hair and a stern expression. "The age he was when I was still alive."

 _Oh._

Kotetsu gets to his feet. Slowly, Barnaby follows him, still staring. "Ah, well, I guess it's time for introductions, yeah?" Kotetsu says. "Bunny...um, this is my wife, Tomoe." He swallows. "Tomoe, this is my husband, Barnaby."

If there has ever been a situation more awkward than this one, Barnaby doesn't know what it is.

"Hello, Barnaby," Tomoe says. Her voice could freeze a volcano. "It's so nice to finally meet you in person."

"...hello," he manages. "I. I hope you're doing well?"

"I finally got to see my husband again after over fifty years, so yes, that was nice," Tomoe says. "And now _you're_ here. He barely had enough time to settle in. Clingy, aren't you?"

"Um, honey," Kotetsu starts.

"Zip it," Tomoe says. "This is between me and the homewrecker."

Barnaby, previously at a loss for words, finds them again. "Homewr--you were _dead!"_ he says. "He was living by himself! How was I 'wrecking' anything? I made him _happy!"_

"It took months for you to even _smile_ at him," Tomoe says, advancing on Barnaby with a grim look in her eye.

"Well, technically, when I first met _you_ \--" Kotetsu begins to say.

"You tried to _kill him!"_

"That wasn't my fault!" Barnaby says. "And I had severe psychological damage! Which he helped fix! Because he _loves me!"_

"He was lonely and you took advantage of that!" Tomoe snarls. They're face-to-face now, noses almost touching. Which is impressive, given that she's a good six inches shorter than him. "If I'd been there, you would only have been a partner to him!"

"You _weren't_ there! And if it wasn't for me, he probably would have _stayed_ lonely!"

"Because he was still in love with _me,"_ Tomoe says. "You know, first person he ever loved, mother of his child, the one who _gave him his hero name._ Then you just come _waltzing_ in, with your emotional neediness and your personal problems and your obvious but unstated desperation to be loved, and _bam_ , over twenty years of being meant for each other just goes right out the window. How do you think that made _me_ feel, huh?"

"I was under the impression that you would have wanted him to be happy," Barnaby says. "But I don't know, maybe you _liked_ seeing him miserable. Some loving wife _you_ are."

"Listen, jackass, people only get _one_ love of their life, and for him that's _me,_ " Tomoe snaps. "Everyone else, including damaged prettyboys, is just second-rate."

"Okay, okay, break it up," Kotetsu says, pushing them apart. "I'm sure we can be reasonable about this. Or, um, well, we can _try_ , anyway."

Now Tomoe's voice drips like sarcastic honey. "Oh? And what's _your_ solution, sweetie?"

"You could at least _try_ to get along with each other? I mean, it's not like you have nothing in common..."

"Oh yes, he's a glasses-wearing overachiever who pretended not to like you at first and then grew increasingly frustrated over you not noticing his obvious feelings for you," Tomoe says. "That was _my_ thing, copycat! You can't even be original about it!"

"Wh--how was I supposed to know about that?" Barnaby asks. Maybe being here eases strong emotion, but he can still feel a tension headache coming on. "And for someone who loves Kotetsu so much, you're sure not doing a great job _listening_ to him!"

" _Well, neither are you!"_

"Will you two just _stop fucking arguing?"_ Kotetsu snaps.

The unexpected anger is enough to silence Barnaby in disbelief. Tomoe, too, from the looks of it.

"It's just...I love _both_ of you," Kotetsu says. "And I don't want either of you be unhappy. I mean, this is kind of a place where you're _supposed_ to be happy. Can't we work something out?"

There's an awkward silence. Then: "Fifty years, Kotetsu," Tomoe says softly. "I waited so long to see you again. I wanted you to be happy, I did, but...I couldn't even talk to you. And now you're finally here, and you're not _mine_ anymore. How am I supposed to react? Am I supposed to be happy that I have to share you?"

"What she said," Barnaby says. "Except the fifty years part. But a few months was still pretty fucking hard."

"You know how it feels, then," Tomoe says. "To miss him so much you don't know what to do."

"I could make the argument that, still being not completely psychologically stable, I was more affected by it than a normal person would be," Barnaby says. "But. Yes. I know how you feel."

"See? Something in common, like I said," Kotetsu says. "That's a starting point, isn't it?"

Barnaby wants to say, no, if he tries hard enough he can win this, but what would that achieve? Even after decades of living with Barnaby, the pictures of Tomoe still stayed up, the first wedding ring still stayed on. Now that Kotetsu has Tomoe back, he's not going to let go of her. And she's not going to let go of him. Old, secret jealousies come back to the surface; he feels like an intruder, someone who had no business trying to fit into something that was already full. It's not fair. Of course it isn't. But that sums up a good chunk of his life, doesn't it.

But there's Kotetsu's face, genuinely torn, genuinely despairing, and--Barnaby can't disappoint him. Not after so many years of needing him.

"Okay," Barnaby whispers. "I'll try."

A fragile hope rises on Kotetsu's face.

"Well, if _he's_ going to," Tomoe starts, but her voice softens again. "...I did watch you, all this time. And you were so miserable those first few years. I wondered if you'd ever be happy again. But then he came along, and even if it was rough at first--he made you smile again," she says. "He gave you what you needed. And I can't truly hate anyone who did that. I'll try, too."

A second passes before Kotetsu grabs both of them into a massive hug. It's awkward and wonderful and Barnaby realizes he's crying again, they all are, crying and laughing with the greatest relief he's ever known. There's so much love in between them, and Kotetsu deserves all of it and is amazing enough to return all of it too, and _this_ is happiness, isn't it, knowing that it will be this way forever, now.

Eventually they pull apart, wiping their eyes. Barnaby looks over at Kotetsu, and notices something. "You're older," he says. "Not much, but you are."

"To be honest, I don't mind," Tomoe says. "You pull it off. Actually, I kind of liked you with a little gray in your hair."

"I _know,_ " Barnaby says, turning to her. "Wasn't he gorgeous like that? He never believed me, but a not inconsiderable part of why I retired is I kept wanting to jump him in public."

"I think we're going to get along _marvelously_ ," Tomoe says, a gleam in her eye. "Don't you agree, honey?"

"...I'm beginning to rethink this plan," Kotetsu says weakly.

A shared grin, so many shared feelings, and this is how eternity starts: three people, tied together by something death couldn't change.

After all, there are worse problems than fitting more love into your life. (Or afterlife.)


End file.
